Tomorrow's Promise
by Sacred Sakura
Summary: Becoming the greatest swordsmaster in the world was all Kuina ever lived for before she died. Now she's been given a second chance at life. But as conflict rises between Heaven and Hell...can she still fulfill her dream...?
1. Prologue The Doorway to Heaven

_**Tomorrow's Promise  
**_**A One Piece Fan Fiction  
****By Sacred Sakura**

**Conceptualized/Written: 8/26-28/2006  
****Published: 11/22/2006**

**Rating: T  
****Genre: Angst/Supernatural  
****Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece; Oda-sensei does. I wish I did, though. However, this story and all characters not original to One Piece do belong to me.**

**Dedication: To Darkmaster2—for your, eto, "support"—and to starah, a marvelous storyteller whose fanfic "Reborn" inspired this fic.**

**A/N: This was interesting to write, and I really enjoyed it as a whole. I also liked the fact that I _finally_ managed to finish a single fanfic chapter in a short amount of time. (Three days! A record!) Please R&R!**

**

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Prologue: The Doorway to Heaven **

_I open my eyes._

_I am surrounded in darkness, save for a rectangle of light glowing before me. I step through the doorway and find myself in a strange place overflowing with whiteness._

_My legs carry me across a marble floor and toward a marble desk with a glass top. Behind the desk sits a brunet with light blue eyes, wearing spectacles and a white robe. A large book is open on the glass surface before him, a quill in his hand._

_He looks at me._

"_Ah," he says, starting to write in his book. His gaze fixates on mine briefly, then transfers to the cream-colored pages of his book. "You must be Kuina. Female. Age 14. Born October 6th, Year of the Sea 1500, also known as Year One of the Great Age of Piracy. Description: Bluish black hair, dark blue eyes, pale skin, lanky build. Cause of Death: Accidental fall from stairs."_

_I stare at him. "Wait a minute. 'Cause of death'? You're kidding, right?"_

_He continues writing, "Placement: under the jurisdiction of Ward 702, Sector 43, Division—"_

"_I can't be dead!" I yell, interrupting him. "I **can't**! Not **now**!! Not after Zoro and I promised that we would someday fight each other for the title of Master Swordsman!!!"_

_He stops writing, places his quill down next to the book, and waits patiently._

"_This—this is just some stupid joke you're all playing on me, isn't it?!" I demanded angrily. "Right now I'm actually unconscious, deep in sleep, and this is all a dream, a sick, sick dream, and any moment now I'm going to wake up from it, and you'll be gone, you and your stupid book about me dying, and I'll be awake and okay, and all this weirdness will be behind me, and I'll go back to training to become the greatest swords master in the world, and I'll do it, and Zoro and I'll fight to see who's the strongest in the end, and we'll continue to compete, even after one of us has won, and, and—"_

_I stop, gasping for breath, as I realize the inanity of my words—as the realization hits me._

_I'm still here, in this strange white place, still standing on this cold marble floor in my bare feet. The young man with brown hair and those odd light blue eyes, wearing those ridiculously small pince-nez glasses and that too-bright, too-white robe-thing, is still here, still sitting behind this polished marble desk with its glass top. And still there on that desk sits open that thick book, with the snow-white quill that never seems to need ink next to it; and the cream-colored pages of that book still contain the neatly scripted words that state my name, my age, my date of birth…**my cause of death.**_

_I sink to my knees, unable to stand any longer, unable to support myself with my own strength._

"_Are you done?" the man asks me patiently._

_I stare off into the distance, unable to respond. My mind has gone blank, my will lost._

"_All right then," he sighs, picking up his quill again. "Now then. Where were we? Ah, yes. Placement: under the jurisdiction of Ward 702, Sector 43, Division 19, Prefecture 21, Sub-Province—"_

"_It's not fair," I choke out as tears begin to fall from my eyes._

"—_Sub-Province 56," he continues despite my interruption, as if I hadn't said anything in the first place, or as if he was used to hearing people cry, scream, wail, and complain, and he simply ignored them out of habit and necessity. "City-State 49—"_

"_Send me back."_

_He stops again and regards me coldly, by this time obviously irritated by my persistence._

_I struggle to my feet, my legs shaking. "Send me back!" I yell._

_The neutral expression on his face becomes sour with impatience and exasperation. "That is not possible," he tells me, his tone frank._

"_Wh-what do you mean it's not possible?!" I explode, frustrated. "You guys have done it before, right? I mean, some people died and came back! Why can't you do the same for me?!"_

_He sighs in irritation, then sets down his quill. "Let me explain. Those people who died and came back into the world of the living came back because it wasn't their time to go yet. Or, God decided that they needed to keep on living in order to fulfill a certain purpose in life. In your case, it was your time to go. Got it?"_

"_But—but that's not fair!" I protest angrily. "I still had my entire life in front of me! Why did I have to croak just because of some stupid fall?!"_

"_Life's never fair. That's why there's an Afterlife. And as for dying so early—that was your destiny. Your death was fated to set off a chain of events that would alter the lives of many people—and, indirectly, prevent the Other Side from winning."_

"_Wha…? What do **I** care about whether Heaven or Hell loses?!" I snap. "I just want to go back—back to the way things were!"_

"_Well that's too bad," the brunet retorts, picking up his quill. "Once you're logged into The Book, you can't return to the realm of mortals." He is about to start writing again when a hand rests on his shoulder._

"_You left out that God makes a few exceptions, Alistair," says a dark-haired man with honey-colored skin, clapping his hand hard on the brunet's shoulder all the while._

"_Rafael! What are **you** doing here? Aren't you supposed to be going through the paperwork for Cases GR1, PK1, and PK2?"_

"_Aw, don't worry about it," the heavyset man says with a cheerful grin and too-white smile, waving away at the matter the brunet has brought up. "I'm almost done."_

"'_Almost done' meaning only **halfway done!!!"**_

"_Besides," the man called Rafael continues, as if the man named Alistair hadn't interrupted him in the first place, "God sent me over to pick up a new arrival known as 'Kuina.' Her file's almost taller'n me; it's so thick…"_

"_Wait a minute. God wants **her** to go to the Department of Dimensional Transfers and Relocation?!" Alistair frantically gestures in my direction._

"_Ah! So this is her?" Rafael's odd copper-brown eyes brighten at the sight of me. "Hey, she's sure a cutie! Much better looking than the old ratty black-and-white in her file! I've been telling God for centuries that we should switch to holograms—or **color photos**, at the very least—but the guy upstairs won't listen!"_

"_**First** of all," Alistair interrupts him, "it's 'This is she,' not 'This is her'. Secondly, we use monochromatic images of all subjects in order to ensure that out work is always objective—a concept that an emotionally and hormonally overcharged angel like **you** can never seem to fully grasp. And third, you can't just waltz down to the Department of Induction and Allocation while Placement is in progress and announce that the subject is to be sent elsewhere! No one can erase what's been written down in The Book but God, and he's already rather quite busy dealing with more pressing issues—including the mess that's going on at Skypiea—so he's not going to bother Undoing the Placement of some petulant little girl who refuses to Ascend!"_

_Rafael absorbs his words for a minute, or appears to._

'_So these guys…are **angels?'** I frown. 'Not exactly…**typical** angels… Or at least…not what I would **expect…'**_

"_Well then… 'Where there's a will, there's a way.'" Rafael reaches over, snatches the snow-white quill from Alistair's hand, and begins to scratch out the last portion of writing._

"_Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" exclaims the blue-eyed angel in horror. "You can't just **deface** The Book like that! And you're using Sacred Ink to do it, too!!"_

"_Relax. All we're doing is fixing it. Besides, it's not like we've correction fluid or tape to blank out the stuff we don't want."_

"_This is why only God Himself is allowed to alter the records!" Alistair wails. "Gahhhh!! Why do you always have to break the rules like this?! God may be omniscient, but I'm still going to get in trouble for permitting you to deface The Book!! Why me?!!"_

_Rafael ignores him, murmuring as he writes: "Placement: to be sent to the Dept. of Reincarnation for reinstatement of Mortality."_

"_That's 'Dept. of Dimensional Transfers and Relocation,' you dolt! Quit giving everything a nickname, for crying out loud! It ruins the image of organization and professionalism we're trying to maintain!"_

_Alistair sighs in extreme exasperation before continuing, "Arghhhh!! Why?! Why?!! Why did I have to be assigned to the Department of Induction and Allocation, and thus be constantly harassed by **this **fool?! I would have been perfectly fine reorganizing and filing the Records in the Department of the Treasury of Historical Matters!!"_

"_Dude, no one calls it that anymore. Not even God. Just call it the Dept. of History like everyone else does." Rafael sweatdrops._

_As the angel Alistair cools down from his tantrum, I summon up the courage to speak. "'The Department of Reincarnation'? Is that what I think it is?"_

_Rafael flashes his supposedly charming smile as he directs me to a door behind Alistair's desk. "Yep. Sure is. Right this way, my dear."_

_I step nervously through the doorway and into…_

_A total pigsty. Thousands of books and trillions of file folders are strewn about the entire expanse of the large white room, save for a black desk smack in the middle of it all, a tight radius of barely half a meter of clear space surrounding it._

_"Welcome to the Dept. of Reincarnation! Please—"_

_"It's the **'Department of Dimensional Transfers and Relocation'!!!"** Alistair continues to complain, but the closing door shuts out the rest of his protests and harried speeches of indignation._

_"—excuse the mess. I've been swamped with work lately—"_

_"**But mainly you've been lazy!"** yells someone from underneath the desk, chucking a five-kilogram volume smack into the side of his head._

_"Owww… Watch it, Althie…" Rafael rubs at the victimized spot behind his ear. "You could hurt someone with that…."_

_An…elf-thing…pops up behind the black lacquered desk, pale beryl eyes flashing, wielding an eight-kilogram volume threateningly. **"That was the entire point!"**_

_"Hey, hey! I didn't do anything to deserve this abuse!" Rafael protests, shielding himself._

_"Bet you did," I mutter, arms crossed._

_My comment attracts the elf-thing's attention._

_"Ah! You must be Kuina!" The bony, white-robed angel waves with her free hand, her odd pale beryl eyes dancing. "Name's Althea! I'm the Adjutant Angelic Head of the Dept. of Dimensional Transfers and Relocation, in other words Raff's assistant! Nice to meetcha!"_

_I stare at her alexandrite hair, a downy bob of curly light-yellow-green locks with a pencil-thin wisp of a ponytail floating at the nape of her neck. "Anou… Are you sure you're an angel, and not an elf…or a pixie-thing?"_

_To my surprise, Althea tilts her head back and belts out a hearty—and not at all pixyish—laugh. "**Hahahahaha!!** Oh, ange, is this rich! I've been called an elf, a sprite, a dwarf, even a pixie—but a **pixie-thing**?! **BWAhahahahaha!!!"**_

_"…Anyway…" I begin, trying to redirect the conversation to the matter at hand, "…So what's all this about my being reincarnated?"_

_Having finally settled down, Althea focuses on my query. "Eh? Whaddaya mean? You're gonna get Reincarnated. What's confusing about that? Aside from 'how,' that is."_

_"Well…why can't I just go back?" I ask, starting to feel a little foolish, yet irritated by having to repeat myself. "Why do I have to be reincarnated instead?"_

_Althea raises an eyebrow. "Didn't Alistair already explain? You were **destined** to die. I could hear the guy all the way from here; he was so blessed **loud**."_

_"But if I was 'destined' to die, then why am I being reincarnated?"_

_The green-eyed angel sighs. "Not only would you not like the reason, but I'm not at liberty to say. God's orders," she adds, already ahead of my next question._

_I swallow her words for a moment. Then I ask, "So how's this 'reincarnation' process work?"_

_"I'll explain—"_

_"Not you, you dolt!" Althea interrupts Rafael, chucking a 50-kilogram box collection of books at the brown-eyed angel. "Knowing you, you'll leave out an important detail! Just go take a nap for a while! I'll wake you up when it's time to take her back Down!"_

_Rafael slumps back onto the floor, unconscious, as a rather large bump swells on his head._

_"Anyway, back to the 'how.' You're welcome to sit," the angel says, gesturing toward a stack of books in front of the desk._

_I sit, somehow apprehensive for a reason I can't understand._

_"Okay. In most cases of Reincarnation, the soul in question is simply Reborn as a 'new' person. Some souls manage to retain—well, it's more **remember** than anything else—memories of their past life—or **lives**, but that's usually rare—depending on their level of Spirituality. Kinda like willpower, except on a totally different plane of existence and meaning._

_"But in your case," Althea continues, "the process is different. Instead of bring 'Reborn' as an entirely different individual, you'll return to the Mortal Realm in your original body and live out a completely different life. Whether you'll be the same person—whether your dreams, beliefs, purpose in life, and so forth will remain the same—is uncertain. Not even Fate decides that. Your name might not, in all likelihood, still be 'Kuina.' You might not even remember your past life._

_"And because we're skipping the whole 'growing up' process humans go through—you'll be returning in your 14-year-old body—your soul might not be the same. Breaking the rules of Life can drastically change the very Fabric of a soul's makeup."_

_I digest the pixie-angel's words. 'Am I sure this isn't all a dream?'_

_"So are ya ready to return to the Mortal Realm? Or do ya need a coupla minutes to prepare yourself?" Althea spreads her arms out wide, grinning. "Well, you've got all eternity to do it."_

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**Well, what do you think?  
:D**


	2. Ch 1 Hell's Kitchen

_**Tomorrow's Promise  
**_**A One Piece Fan Fiction  
****By Sacred Sakura**

**Conceptualized/Written: 8/29/2006, 11/27/2006-12/6/2006, 12/18-20/2006  
****Published: 12/21/2006**

**Rating: T  
****Genre: Angst/Supernatural  
****Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece; Oda-sensei does. I wish I did, though. However, this story and all characters not original to One Piece do belong to me.**

**Dedication: To Darkmaster2—for your, eto, "support"—and to starah, a marvelous storyteller whose fanfic "Reborn" inspired this fic.**

**A/N: Please R&R! Review replies are at the end of the chapter!

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**

**Journey One: Hell's Kitchen**

"_Don't you find it odd?" Althea asked Rafael thoughtfully as she read the contents of a manila file folder._

"_Hm?" The brunet stopped writing. He looked up at the beryl-eyed angel with a questioning copper gaze. "What is?"_

"_That girl Kuina… Her file's abnormally long…and yet…why would God send her **there**?"_

"_Maybe she's supposed to whup all the slackers into cooking better," the brunet joked._

"_I'm trying to be serious here." Althea glared at him before returning to the file. "Still…"_

'…_why the _Baratie_…?'

* * *

_

"Oi! Kuina!"

"Eh?" A raven-haired girl looked up from the dripping dish in her hand.

A muscular man garbed in black popped his head from behind a wall, wielding a large chef's knife while slicing daikon. "We need you to carry these dishes over to Tables Three and Four; then take new orders from One, Six, and Seven!"

"Hai!" Setting down the dried plate on top of a stack of identical dishes, she threw her damp dishtowel over her shoulder, and hurried across the tiled galley. She reached for two trays of piping hot food and, balancing one in each hand, rushed over to the two tables.

"Your order, Ma'am. Filet mignon, garden salad, and earl grey."

"Thank you, my dear."

She nodded a quick bow before turning to the next table. "And here is your curried rice with lemon zest, sir."

"Oh, why thank you, Miss."

"You're welcome." The dark-haired girl then proceeded to take orders from the awaiting tables. "What would you like to order, sir? Are you perhaps interested in trying out our Special of the Day? Oven-baked Sea King snapper marinated in a savory sauce of aromatic herbs, with a side of seasoned asparagus in butter and roasted corn, grown in the Breadbasket islands of…"

As she busied herself with serving and charming the customers, a man lazily strode through the double-door entrance, his ragged black cloak trailing in the air behind him. He removed it and draped the worn mantle over a chair at the table closest to the galley stairwell, revealing a well-built body beneath a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He sat, crossing his black-panted legs, leisurely waiting to be waited upon, in the meantime observing the young girl with interest.

"I'll return shortly to take your order, sir!" the girl called out to the new customer, disappearing into the galley to report the new orders. A few minutes later she clambered back down the stairs, pen and pad in hand.

"What would you like, sir?"

He studied her with his peculiar cinnamon-hued eyes, silent. Then, shaking his head in amused quiet laughter, he ran his slender fingers through his black pixie cut, twisting a finger around the rattail at the base of his neck, and made his order. "Just a glass of Bordeaux for now."

"Hai. Very good, sir." The girl politely bowed before returning to the galley.

The man pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, smiling wryly as he looked at the tattered picture there. "So her name's Kuina, eh? Interesting girl…"

Depicted on the faded photograph was a softly smiling girl of bluish-black hair and dark gray eyes sitting before a serene background of blossoming and falling sakura. A cream-hilted sword rested against her shoulder.

* * *

Almost closing time for the oceangoing restaurant-ship, and the straggling remainder of the day's customers were leaving at last.

Exhausted, the dark-haired girl slumped into a nearby chair, relieved to finally be able to take a break.

"I'm so glad the day's over," Kuina sighed, wiping away perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Today was busier than usual…"

"You sure worked hard."

She looked over to where the speaker sat. It was the dark-haired man from earlier that day.

'He only ordered wine the entire time,' she remembered grudgingly. 'You'd think he would have gotten a hangover by now.'

"Sorry, sir, but the _Baratie_ is now closed," she told him. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"Really? Well, I'm sorry too, since I just don't feel like leaving quite yet."

"Sir, you must leave regardless of whether you feel like it or not," Kuina replied, standing. Stress from the day had begun to take its toll, and this latest customer's languid arrogance was seriously starting to grate on her nerves. "That is one of the rules you must abide by as a customer of _Baratie_, and we do not allow exceptions. Now please leave, else we must remove you from the premises with bodily force."

The dark-haired stranger smiled. "Go ahead. Be my guest." His smile grew at the ironic joke he had just made on their current positions—considering the fact that he was the actual guest.

Kuina turned her head up, in the direction of the galley. "Oi! Patty! Carne! We need another removal!"

"Right away, Kuina-chan!"

"I told you, Patty, my left foot was itching again today! Whenever it itches, we get more trouble than usual!"

"Shuddup!"

Two burly men burst from the galley upstairs, wielding a large butcher knife and bazooka cannon. "Here we are, Kuina-chan, at your service! Who do we need to beat up?!"

"What an amusing pair," the stranger remarked, amused. "It's really too bad I'll have to kill them if they get in my way."

Kuina whipped around to face him again. "What did you say?!"

The man rose. "You see, I came to this pathetic dump of a restaurant—although, I must admit; your Bordeaux and Chenin Blanc are of excellent quality—because I had orders to kill a certain someone."

"Oi! No one goes around insulting our beloved _Baratie_!" angrily shouted Patty, the red-faced cook garbed in black, as he aimed his bazooka. "Now you're gonna pay **double!"**

By this time, the other _Baratie _chefs—garbed in white, thus denoting their status as regular cooks—had also stormed from the ship kitchen, heavily armed with knives and various other sharp implements used in their trade.

The stranger sighed, playing with the silver ring dangling from his left ear on a chain. "How tiresome. Why couldn't I have been sent to the Grand Line instead? At least my assignment would have been more **challenging."**

"**Shokuatari Meatball!!!"** an enraged Patty yelled out, firing his bazooka.

The stranger sighed again—right behind the two red-faced, burly cooks. "I should warn you," he hissed into their flushed ears, his cinnamon gaze hardening into a deep cinnabar. "Do **not** interfere with my assignment. I am far from lenient towards any and all opposition, and my employer is even less so towards failure. So do me a favor and save your pathetic hides by **backing off. **I do **not** want to lose my good mood, much less my own existence."

The two cooks froze, paralyzed by an invisible force.

"**Understand? Good."** The stranger scanned the room. "Now where did Kuina—"

"**Yaaahhhhhh!!!"** the aforesaid dark-haired girl yelled, dropping down from the helix staircase that led to the galley, swinging a broom handle at the man.

He expertly deflected her attack, easily catching the wooden stave in his left hand. Kuina released her grip on the intercepted weapon and leaped back, crouching her body into a defensive stance.

"I must say, I'm impressed with your swordsmanship and reflexes," he remarked with a smile. "No wonder you could defeat Zoro in every one of your 2001 battles."

"Wh-what?" She stared at him, confused.

"Oh, you don't remember?" The man raised a questioning eyebrow. "Apparently you haven't regained any of your memories, then."

A cold sweat broke out on Kuina's body. "What are you talking about? How…how could you have known about my amnesia?"

He smiled. "Simple. I'm a demon, and my current task is to kill you."

"**NANI?!?"

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**

**Well, what do you think?**

**:D

* * *

****Here are the replies to your reviews!**

Zenon1293—Thanks! As you can see, there are more chapters to come!

Shironami—Thanks for the confidence boost! And yes, I totally love my OCs!

Kitty Yannie—Yeah, I was laughing during Alistair and Raf's entire exchange too… Here's another chapter!!

kuina tashigi—Umm…okay… Sure… (sweatdrops)

Keira317—I feel so much better about this fic! Thanks! Glad people enjoyed the plot!


	3. Ch 2 Home Beyond the Mikans

_**Tomorrow's Promise  
**_**A ****One Piece**** Fan Fiction  
****By Sacred Sakura**

**Conceptualized/Written: 12/21-28/2006, 1/2/2007, April 2007  
****Published: 5/1/2006**

**Rating: T  
****Genre: Angst/Supernatural  
****Disclaimer: I don't own ****One Piece****; Oda-sensei does. I wish I did, though. However, this story and all characters not original to ****One Piece**** do belong to me.**

**Dedication: To Darkmaster2—for your, eto, "support"—and to starah, a marvelous storyteller whose fanfic "Reborn" inspired this fic. AND THANK YOU TO ALL MY LOVELY, WONDERFUL READERS!!! Especially Nehsz-chan, Zenon-san, Shironatchan, Keira-chan and Kuina-Tatchan, my repeat reviewers!!!**

**A/N: Sorry the last chapter ended so abruptly, but I had to end it like that—especially considering the fact that I got writer's block immediately afterwards, heheh. (sweatdrops) This chapter, however, is better planned...sort of...  
****A note of warning: There ****will**** be two segments in this chapter that continue with the **_**Baratie**_** mini-arc—just not at the beginning. So if you're confused by the layout…that's probably why.  
****Oh, and "Onigokko" is basically the game of tag in Japanese. Please R&R! Review replies and extra author's comments are at the end of the chapter!

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**

**Journey Two: Home Beyond the Mikans**

"_This is all just a hallucination, a trick of the mind, a figment of my imagination, an illusion, a weakening of cognitive functions due to stress and unwanted vexation, simply a result of myopia, and I just need a new prescription; perhaps I am developing a cataract, which is unheard of in the angel community, but then again there's a first time for anything, and one cannot rule out the improbable until it is proven impossible…"_

"…_Where am I?"_

"_**NOOOOOOOO!!!"**__ Alistair cried out, yanking at his neatly combed hair, despairing at the interruption of his feverish rambling. __**"How could you?! How dare you interrupt my Mind-Over-Matter-Self-Therapy?!! It was working! It was actually operating to the fullest of its efficacy!! And you ruined it!!!"**_

_Kuina sweatdropped. 'I bet 100 million Beri it wasn't.'_

"_Relax, Alistair." Rafael clapped a tan hand on his fellow angel's shoulder in assurance. "It's only therapy. And besides, everyone knows that kind of stuff doesn't work on angels."_

"_**You!!!"**_

"_Yeah." Rafael sweatdropped. "It's just me. Raff."_

"_**What form of torment are you going to inflict on me this time?!!"**_

"_Actually…I came here to pick up Kuina. She's being transferred to the Department of Reincarnation again. Make sure you take note of that in the Book."_

"_Wha—__**Again?"**_

_Rafael sighed. "Yup." He transferred his copper gaze to Kuina's flint-gray one and grinned. "Come on, let's go."_

"_Gahhh!! That girl is such a nuisance! Why, God, why?! Why am I cursed?!!"_

"_Angels can't be cursed," Rafael muttered as he and Kuina stepped through the white doorway that led to the Dept. of Dimensional Transfers and Relocation, the crystal door closing off the sound of Alistair's complaining behind them. "Not unless they make that choice themselves."_

"_Hi again!" greeted the pixyish Althea, her chartreuse head popping up from among a mass of papers and books. "I'm guessing she died again?" she asked the department head._

"_That's why she's here," Rafael replied, sighing. "Gosh, I feel so worn out for some reason…"_

_Kuina stared at the __Adjutant Angelic Head of the Dept. of Dimensional Transfers and Relocation for a moment, thoughtful. "You're…Althea, am I right?"_

_Althea looked at the girl, confused. "Well, yeah. Don't you recognize me? We've met before…"_

"_I think…I was supposed to give you a message…"_

_The memory came back to her. Right before the man—or, rather, __**demon**__—slit her throat, he'd murmured something into her ear._

'Oh, and when you get to the Dept. of Reincarnation…tell Althea… **"Renge says hi."'**

_Althea paled, dropping to her knees in paralyzed shock, her hand going to her mouth._

"_Althie, what's wrong?" asked Rafael, concerned, as he went to her side._

"_R-Renge…" the angel gasped through her fingers, tears pooling in her lime-green eyes. "Y-you…"_

"_Who's Renge?!" Rafael demanded. "What'd he do to you?!"_

_Althea met his dark amber gaze, unable to stem the flow of tears that fell like pearls from an urn of porcelain. "R-Raff…d-don't you r-remember…? W-we were o-once childhood f-friends… B-before he…__**Turned**__…y-you knew him as…as 'Lian-Hua'…"_

_Rafael's eyes widened. __**"Lee? **__He__** Turned?"**_

_Althea nodded, her face buried in her trembling hands._

"_But I thought he went to dispel the demon uprisings at Tianshi-Musuo."_

_She lifted her head, wiping away the tears that continued to flow. "D-didn't y'know? Tianshi-Musuo is also known as the Angel's Graveyard…. Once an angel enters that realm, they return Stained, lose their Existence, or…"_

"…_or__** Turn."**__ Rafael's eyes hardened. "That's what happened to Lee, huh? He Turned."_

"_When he didn't return," Althea whispered, "I didn't know what to think; so I just hoped and prayed. But when his name never appeared in God's Tenshihon, I could only assume the worst."_

_Rafael slammed his fist into the marble wall, growling in frustration. Kuina could have sworn that the brunet angel had sworn just then, but then again, he __**was**__ supposed to be an angel after all..._

_"Raff." The lamenting angel turned her reddened eyes up to look at Rafael and smiled weakly. "Enough about the past. Let's...just get started on Kuina's reincarnation...shall we?"

* * *

_

A lavender-haired young woman stretched to the very tips of her toes to reach a rather stubborn mikan, then deposited the sweet-smelling fruit into a large basket bulging with more of the ripe orange fruit. Wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, she sighed in satisfaction.

"Oi! Nojiko! How's this year's harvest?"

The woman looked up and grinned at the middle-aged man strolling through the mikan groves. "Hey, Gen-san. Looks like it's gonna rival last year's harvest and the one before that **combined."** She plucked another fruit and glanced at it thoughtfully. "It's almost as if…I don't know…these mikans can somehow **sense** the change in this island." She met the man's dark brown gaze. "As if they can sense the **freedom** endowed us."

Genzo's smile outshone the scars that riddled his face as he laughed. "Hahahahahahaha! I think you're right, crazy though it sounds! Our right to laugh has been returned to us, so why can't nature join in the celebration? Hahaha!"

Nojiko joined in the laughter, in full agreement.

However, their special moment together as an almost surrogate family was interrupted by a frantic cry. "Oi! Ooooooooiiiiii!!!" A villager from Cocoyashi waved the two down as he dashed up the hill, nearly tripping himself in the process. "Genzo-san!!!"

"Eh? What's wrong?" Genzo asked as he and Nojiko sweatdropped at the heavily panting messenger.

"There's…a girl…," the villager huffed, struggling to catch his breath.

"She…was floating…in the water…. Doc's…trying…to revive her…right now. I…was sent here…to ask…what we should do."

"A girl?" Nojiko queried. She turned to the brown-clad village headman. "Gen-san, do you think it could be pirates?"

"I hope not," the scar-faced man replied, his face grim. He nodded at the messenger. "Lead the way."

* * *

"It must have been pirates," Nojiko declared as she scanned the unconscious girl's limp form and noticed the cut in her neck. "They probably raped and then got tired of her."

The gray-haired village doctor shook his head as he bandaged the girl's wound. "She's still pure, so whoever killed her didn't try to take advantage of her innocence."

"Will she be all right?" Genzo asked him.

Doc nodded. "Just unconscious, most likely from shock. Her throat was nearly slit, after all. But she didn't swallow any water." He rose and tucked the edge of the bed's thin blanket over her bandaged neck. "All she needs right now is some rest. Then when she's up and walking, we can try to piece together exactly what happened to her."

* * *

"Damn it, this is such a pain in the ass," a cloaked man complained as he sauntered along the walkways of a small village. "Why do I have to be stuck doing this job all over again? And the target's location's been encrypted this time, too, to boot."

His gaze drifted to group of laughing children playing Onigokko. 'Silly fools. In a few years, your so-called "innocence" is going to drown in the truth of the real world. Enjoy your ignorance while it lasts….'

As he continued to gaze at the scene, amused by the guiltless yet fleeting purity naturally endowed to all children, the image before him began to blur to that of another.

"_Lian-Hua!" a girl whispered, her downy head of yellowish green hair popping out from behind a bookcase. She peered out at the dark-haired youth sitting there, a book propped on his lap. "There y'are!"_

_The boy looked up, his nutmeg-colored eyes meeting that of the grinning girl's chartreuse ones. "Althea," he murmured, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here? Only Scribe Angels are allowed in the Library at this hour."_

_Althea pouted. "I got bored. Raff's fine for playing Truth or Dare, but nowadays he's too interested in trying to impress all the feminine angels to play anything else. Seriously, if he wasn't an angel, I'd think his hormones were on overload."_

_Lian-Hua smiled at the thought. "Perhaps. But you are right; man was made not in our image, but in God's. We are different from humans, although we both possess many similarities."_

"_Yeah, yeah, whatever." Althea waved away the start of his miniature informational lecture. She stuck her grinning face in front of his. "So, will y'come and play?"_

_He looked down at the open book in his lap, hesitant. "Well…I still have to memorize the rest of this manual…"_

_The slightly younger angel let out an exaggerated sigh and grabbed his wrist. "Come on," she commanded, dragging her friend through the library. "You need a break once in a while. Memorizing rules can wait another Ji or two."_

"_But…" Lian-Hua sighed in resignation and let her drag him across the scarlet carpet. "Oh, all right, I'll take a breather—for __**one Ji.**__ And then I am hitting the books again."_

_Althea grinned triumphantly as they left the quiet of the library, knowing she had won. "Good. Now what game shall we play…?"_

He scowled. "Why the hell did **that** come to my mind? The past is past, and should be left there to rot." He clenched his teeth. "Especially **that** past."

* * *

_The fighting-cooks stared at the self-proclaimed "demon," shell-shocked._

"_Wha—What the hell are you talking about?!" Patty demanded. "Ain't no one's gonna hurt our precious Kuina-chan!! 'Specially not the likes of you!!"_

"_And who's going to stop me?" the dark-haired demon asked with obvious contempt. __**"You?**__ Pathetic cooks like you should stick to your safe little kitchens and not worry about fighting pirates and demons. __**Especially**__ a demon like me." His crimson eyes flashed._

"_I don't understand." Kuina clenched her fists. "What do you want to kill me for? What have I done to invoke the wrath of a __**demon?"**_

"_Nothing that really concerns me personally," the demon replied indifferently with a shrug. "My employer wants you dead. It's my job to kill you. End of story."_

"_**NO!!!"**__ Her outburst caused everyone in the room to stare. "It's __**not**__ 'end of story'!!! What about the past that I can't remember?! What about my purpose in life, the yearning desire to __**do something**__ that constantly burns in my heart for seemingly no reason?! And why does your 'employer' want me to die so badly?!" Tears ran down her face. Hot tears of bottled up emotion released like a flood tide. "I can remember __**nothing**__ significant about my life before _Baratie_! And now, here comes along someone who might actually __**know**__ something—yet he comes only to __**end**__ my already confused life!! Does God __**hate**__ me or something?! Is that it?! If it isn't, then what__** IS?!"**_

_She stopped, the tears overwhelming her, and fell to her knees, her face buried in her hands._

"_Are you done?" His voice, impatient. Cold. "After all, it's time for me to kill you."_

"_Why the hell are you doing this to our Kuina-chan?!" Patty demanded angrily, his face flushed with uncontrolled emotion. "Why are you putting her through this?!"_

"_Yeah!" Carne pitched in, equally red-faced. "What did she ever do to you?!"_

"_Simple. Like I said before. __**Orders."**__ The demon slowly walked over to where Kuina kneeled, his hand in his pocket. "I could care less what she's gone through or what's going to happen to her; I'm only going to kill her because I was ordered to. That's all the reason I need."_

"_Wha—__**What helluva crap-reason is that?!?"**__ the cooks demanded. __**"Who the hell is your 'employer,' anyway?!"**_

"_It doesn't really matter who my employer is," he replied, drawing a small silver knife from his pocket. "Or at least, not right now."_

_The demon pressed the blade against the girl's throat. "Any last words before you die?"_

"_... Yeah." She whipped around, swinging the broom handle at his head, successfully knocking him down. She pointed a sharp santoku knife at his throat. __**"Go to hell."**_

_Sprawled on the floor, he blinked at her in surprise. Then he chuckled. "Ha ha ha, that's actually quite amusing. I must say, my dear, __**omedetou.**__ It's been a while since someone's taken me by surprise like that. Oh, and by the way…" He suddenly knocked away the broom and knife in her hands and pinned her against the wall, the cool silver blade pressed against her throat once again. __**"I've been to Hell—and it's a pretty interesting place."**__ He smirked. "Too bad you can't come visit."_

"_Like hell I'd want to!" Kuina spat, struggling against his hold._

"_Oh, and when you get to the Dept. of Reincarnation…" He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear, causing her to shudder at his cold touch. "…tell Althea… __**'Renge says hi.'"**_

_Then the silver blade swiftly cut into her skin, barely a pinprick to her numbed senses. Warm blood ran down her neck, staining her white shirt a deep red. A red matching her murderer's cold eyes._

_And then everything went black.

* * *

_

She awoke. Sweat soaked her shirt and the sheets that had twisted around her, cold like the demon's touch. She sat up in the moonlight that streamed through a window beside the bed she found herself in. Her hand went to the bandage around her neck.

'Just a dream. A nightmare. I'm alive.' She hugged her knees. 'I'm still alive.'

She looked at her surroundings, realizing that the room was unfamiliar. 'Where am I?' she wondered.

Her gaze wandered across the darkened bedroom, taking in every detail despite the darkness. An oaken bedside table stood sentinel beside her bed, a worn table lamp perched upon its surface. Directly across from her was a table-thin desk, various papers and bottles scattered over its scratched exterior in a messy pile. She noted several framed pictures—photographs, but she couldn't be sure—dispersed across the stark white walls, some hanging crookedly, others faded with age.

She slowly rose to her feet, pausing for a moment at the side of her bed to regain her equilibrium, and walked over to examine the pictures more closely. Many displayed the same trio of people—a dark-haired man, an old doctor, and a young magenta-haired woman between them, a cigarette almost always clamped between her teeth. In every picture, they were smiling and laughing. Some were of the woman with two young children—a girl whose curly lavender locks lovingly graced her tanned skin, and a younger girl, ginger-haired, her brown eyes sparkling. This second trio seemed happy as well.

But there the pictures of the magenta-haired woman stopped. More photographs of the men and young girls growing older continued the line, but the woman remained conspicuously absent.

And their smiles…their smiles had somehow…**lessened** with the disappearance of the woman's presence. Strained, shadowed, sad were their smiles. As if their joy had left them once the woman had gone.

* * *

_**"DAMN YOU, YOU CRAP-BASTARD!!!"**__ bellowed the enraged cooks as they charged the demon, knives and other makeshift weaponry raised._

_"You know, I feel awfully tired after killing her," Renge remarked in a bored voice. "You should be glad that I don't really feel like dealing with the likes of you; it's rather a drain of energy that I don't care to expend right now."_

_Just as the assailing chefs reached him, the dark-haired demon lazily smirked, then faded in a plume of black mist._

_"Au revoir, kuso-chefs."

* * *

_

"Who was she?"

"Eh?" the village doctor squinted at the dark-haired girl whose arm he was bandaging. "Who?"

Kuina directed her gaze toward the framed photographs on the walls. She pointed at the magenta-haired woman with her free hand. "Her."

"Eh? You mean Bellemére?"

"Is that her name?"

The doctor's wizened face saddened. "It was."

"… So she's dead."

"Y-yeah." His voice caught. "She passed away a long time ago."

"And who are the two girls with her?"

"Nami…is the orange-haired one. The lavender-haired girl is Nojiko."

Just then, someone knocked on the door and entered.

"Speak of the devil," said the doctor, recognizing the visitor. "Nojiko, meet my patient Kuina. Kuina, this is Nojiko."

The tattooed woman grinned, her purple tank top and denim jeans nicely accenting her short and wavy lavender hair. "Yo. Nice to meet you."

* * *

"Excuse me," said Renge, stopping a passerby villager, "but have you seen a young girl, about fourteen, short dark hair, dark gray eyes? She's my daughter... I can't find her. We were separated at sea..."

"Eh? Oh, yes, you must mean Kuina," replied the townsman. "We found her 'bout two moons back on the shore, unconscious but barely hurt, save for a small knife wound. She's currently under the care of and Nojiko—just up the hill where you can see those mikan groves—but you'll have to speak with Genzo-san, the village headman, first. Word around the village is that she was attacked by pirates, but we can't be sure, so we're taking extra precautions." He checked his wristwatch. "Genzo-san'll probably be at Nojiko's house right 'bout now. You'll be just in time for Nojiko's famous mikan sauce."

"Thank you," said Renge, feigning gratitude. "I don't know how..."

"No prob; glad to help a fellow father any way I can." Saluting, the villager departed before the dark-haired man could seek to "repay" him for his kindness.

Renge bid him farewell, a smile of gratification on his pale countenance. 'Gullible fool... That was way too easy...'

* * *

"Oi! Chabo!! Kuina!!" Nojiko sighed in exasperation when she received no response. Tasting the orange-colored sauce one last time, the lavender-haired woman turned off the heat, set aside the saucepan, and threw a dishtowel over her shoulder before stepping out of the cottage door. **"Oi!! Chabo!! Kuina!!"**

Strolling along the mikan groves, she groused to herself in a half-joking manner. "Honestly, where did those two go? They've known each other for hardly two months, and now they're best buds. Sure, it's good that the two of them are making friends so fast...especially considering what the both of them have been through...but still, Kuina's place is not on this island... She belongs elsewhere. When she leaves, Chabo's gonna have a hard time recovering..." She trailed off, her gaze wistful, as an odd feeling stirred within her chest. Her steps slowed.

Why was her heart pounding? Why was her awareness suddenly heightened? She could distinctly sense the loving caress of the sapphire ocean, hear the ethereal laughter of the mikans themselves, taste the sweetness of mikan-flavored wind. And an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout her body.

'Is this...what it feels like to be a mother?' Time seemed to flow slowly by. 'Is this the same feeling...that Bellemére-san experienced when she was our mother? Unconditional love...to which nothing—not poverty, not want, not even the desire to live life free as the birds—**nothing** can compare?'

A sliver of moisture ran down her tanned cheek, then another, then more. Rivulets of happy tears shone on her face as she sank down beneath a mikan.

'Bellemére-san... So **this** is the joy of motherhood...'

* * *

"You know, Chabo...you remind me of someone." She smiled softly, gazing distantly out across the sparkling ocean, as if the answers to her inner questions rested somewhere beyond the horizon. "My memory of him is kind of fuzzy, but...I remember that he had a major stubborn streak." She grinned, facing the brown-haired boy. "Just like you."

Chabo flushed and turned his face away. 'Darnit...! She's so cute...!!'

"Eh?" Kuina rose from the grass, concerned. "Daijoubu?" She leaned forward and rested a hand on his forehead. "Your forehead is hot... You don't have a fever, do you? Maybe we should go home and have Nojiko check on you—"

Chabo leaped up, blushing even more at Kuina's touch. "I—I'm fine!!! I'm just warm, is all! You're right, let's go home! We've been out in the sun too long anyway! That's probably why I feel so hot!!"

The dark-haired girl gave him an odd look, perplexed by his behavior. "Okay, then...let's go." She sweatdropped as the brunet boy raced through the lush mikan groves.

Her gaze softened. Beyond the grassy hill she stood upon...beyond the sweet-scented mikans...beyond the warm air that never turned cold all year, save during storms...was the place she had come to love and cherish the past two fugue-like months.

She grinned, beginning to sprint after the small boy. "Oi!! Chabo!! You'd better watch out, 'cause I'm gonna beat you to Nojiko's!!!"

The sun shone. The breeze sang in whispers among the leaves.

And before her...was home.

* * *

**Has anyone noticed how Rafael's become rather reserved this chapter, or is it just me? And be honest: Don't you love Raff's (albeit often annoying) penchant for nicknames? I do!  
Sorry we don't get to see whether Renge reaches Kuina in this chapter, but that's just how the flow of the story goes. Plus, I didn't want to mess with such a serene ending...

* * *

****Review replies! Huzzah!**

Zenon1293—A good review! Banzai! Actually, the striking correlation between Alistair and Rafael in Yu-Gi-Oh! and my fanfic are ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL. I'm not joking; I came up with their names for other reasons—primarily due to their etymological origins. Their names have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with Yu-Gi-Oh!. Weird, ne?

Keira317—In a way, yes, sort of. COUGH The real reason(s) for his wanting to kill Kuina shall be revealed soon! _...soon..._

Shironami—Yeah, I'm glad I finally updated. I was just so busy with AP stuff… Actually, the _Baratie_ chapter takes place almost immediately after Sanji leaves the _Baratie_; that's why he wasn't present at all during the storyline. I, too, liked the added touch of the sudden appearance of the demon, heheh.

**kuina tashigi**—Umm…okay… (slinks away, scared, to finish this chapter). BTW, there's no guarantee that I will or won't have Zoro appear and meet the reincarnated Kuina; that's still in the works, to be honest….  
I updated.

Nehszriah—I'm glad to know that you wanted to read this, even if you'd forgotten. (Don't worry; it happens to me all the time. I need to catch up on my fanfiction reading myself...)  
Patty and Carne refer to Kuina as "Kuina-chan" because they think she's cute (not because they're dirty middle-aged men or something, eheheh... (sweatdrops)).


	4. Ch 4 Bitter Tears

**_Tomorrow's Promise  
_****A One Piece Fan Fiction  
****By Sacred Sakura**

**Title Conceptualized: 8/10/2007  
Conceptualized/Written: 8/13,20-22,25-28/2007, 11/11/2007  
****Published: 11/11/2007 ZORO-SAMA'S BIRTHDAY!!!**

**Rating: T  
****Genre: Angst/Supernatural  
****Disclaimer: If I owned One Piece, I would be in heaven right now. But I'm not, so I don't. BUT THE ANGELS AND DEMONS HERE ARE ALL MINE!!! (fanged grin and maniacal laughter) Oh, and I don't own Star Wars. Just a jab at it, though, can't be helped.**

**Dedication: THANK YOU TO ALL MY LOVELY, WONDERFUL READERS!!! Especially Nez-chan, Zenon-san, Shironatchan, Keira-chan and Tashina-chan, my repeat reviewers!!! (cries happily)**

**A/N: SORRY I'M LATE!!! My social life outside of school has died the past few months. I'm hoping to revive it during the next two months, if possible. But then it might die again once I get a job…  
****Again, sorry for ending the previous chapter abruptly, but I didn't want to spoil such a nice ending...yet.  
****Another note of warning: MORE FLASHBACK SEGMENTS. (They're italicized.) Man, I really missed my angels... BTW, Renge's not a vamp, nor does he possess a fetish for red things…  
****Please R&R! Review replies and extra author's comments are at the end of the chapter! And yes, this update is in tribute to Zoro's birthday!!! "Tanjoubi omedetou, tanjoubi omedetou, tanjoubi omedetou Zoro-sama…" **

**-------**

**Journey Three: Bitter Tears**

_**"CHABO!!!"** she screamed, her tears mingling with the life-giving liquid that streamed from her wounds. **"NOJIKO!!!"**_

_Blood. Too much blood._

_**"GEN-SAN!!!"**_

_Numbing pain. And then...blackness._

_Next thing she knew, she was back in that bright white room. With the same annoying secretary-scribe-whatever-he-was and his histrionics. And the apparently lothario-minded angel with a bad tan. **And** his anorexic pixie-faced assistant with the weird fluffy yellowish-green hair and a major past-relationship problem._

_"Damn. You guys again."_

_"AAAAAUUUUGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! She **swore!!!** She **swore** in **Heaven!!!"** wailed Alistair, tearing his hair out in agony._

_"Hey, she remembers us!" Rafael's countenance brightened._

_"Oi! Loverboy!" Althea thwacked her superior—well, superior in status, anyway, though not necessarily in the intelligence department—in the head. "We got work to do!!"_

_"Aw, **ange..."**_

_**"Wait a minute."**_

_All three angels froze and fell silent._

_"Is there something you're not telling me here?"_

_All three angels sweatdropped, guilt plastered all over their faces as they fruitlessly sought other things to distract themselves with._

_Kuina propped her hand on her hip. "'Cause I don't know about you, but don't you think it's weird that I keep dying and having to be reincarnated?"_

_They exchanged looks but continued to say nothing._

_"You guys haven't even asked me who keeps freaking **killing** me each time you send me out."_

_Alistair couldn't resist a discreet cough arising from nervousness and a suspicious tickling in his throat._

_"See? There's obviously something you're hiding from me." She glowered at them as the other two angels in turn glared at the scribe angel. "Not to mention" —She glared pointedly in the direction of the lime green-haired angel— "that **you** somehow **know** this Renge guy."_

_A light pink tinge appeared on the addressee's cheeks as she simultaneously visibly paled._

_"And before we do __**any**__ reincarnating, __**I want answers."**__ The raven-haired girl crossed her arms. "So out with 'em."_

**-------**

A young girl, dark-haired and dark-eyed, beached her small rowboat at the base of a low hill. The shifting tide gently caressed the barnacled sides of her coracle as she tied the bow to a nearby tree. After reaching under the seat for her tan knapsack, the girl stretched out her arm to grasp the worn branch she had found drifting in the ocean not too long ago. She then straightened, looked up toward the hill to her right, and set off for a new life beyond the path set before her.

She soon came upon a trio of young boys slumbering beneath a blossoming apple tree. There was a lanky one with red hair covering his eyes, a bespectacled youth possessing a head of scruffy straw tufts, and a green-haired kid with a determined set to his brow and a piiman-shaped hair style. All three were sprawled about and sleeping without a care in the world. So peaceful they looked, that the girl was almost afraid to awaken them.

But awaken them she did. "Excuse me?" She walked up and nudged the nearest one—the one with the piiman-shaped haircut—in the ribs with her foot.

"LOOK OUT!!!" yelled the kid, suddenly jumping up—his eyes still closed—and waving around an invisible weapon. "PIRATES!!! C'MON, GANG!!! THE USOPP DEFENSE SQUAD MUST PROTECT SYRUP VILLAGE!!! PROTECT MISS KAYA!!!"

"... Huh?"

The other two boys also jumped up in imaginary fighting stances, ready to attack whatever intruders had invaded their dreams. "ATTACK!!!" all three cried out in unison, charging in the girl's direction.

"Wha—" She stared at them, flummoxed by their odd behavior. "What the hell?!"

Just as the boys were about to swipe at her with imaginary clubs and swords, instinct took over. Fending them off with her walking staff, the girl then proceeded to utilize the stick as a bar to shove all three onto the ground. The force of her defense combined with the boys' heavy fall finally snapped them out of their sleep-fight.

"...Huh...?" the carrot-top wondered groggily, looking around with half-open eyes in confusion. "What happened to all the pirates...?"

"Ahhhhhhh!!! Please spare me!!! I beg of—huh?" The straw-haired boy looked utterly baffled to see that his so-called attackers had vanished. His glasses hung from his right ear.

Only the piiman-top remained alert. "Who are you?!" he challenged the girl.

"Nice to know you're finally awake," she said sarcastically. "Oh, it was tons of fun being attacked by a bunch of idiots." She shot them a glare of death.

"Huh?! Huh?! Where'd they go?!" wondered the redhead.

**"It was you guys!!!" **she yelled with a throbbing vein. The trio flinched.

Regaining her composure, the girl cleared her throat and said, "Anyway, the reason why I woke you morons up in the first place is because I need to know where the nearest inn is."

"Inn?" The piiman-head gave her a suspicious glare. "What for?"

"I need a place to eat and sleep. **Dur." **The girl rolled her eyes. "Now will you tell me which way to go, or do I have to guess?"

**-------**

_"One more time," hissed the dark-haired man, his hand gripped tightly around the lavender-haired woman's neck, "I want you to tell me where the girl Kuina is."_

_"Why?" Nojiko demanded between gasps for air amid the leaves of one of Bellemére's mikan trees. The gash in her side was bleeding heavily and hurt like hell. "What do you want with an innocent girl like her? And how do you know her name?"_

_"You're not in the position to be asking questions," replied the raven-haired man coldly. "In fact, you're not in the position to be doing anything but telling me where Kuina is and begging for your **pathetic life."**_

_**"... 'Beg?'"**_

_"Yes, **beg!"** he sneered, scarlet eyes flashing. "You're nothing but a lowly human, a mere mortal unworthy to claim this earth as your own."_

_"If I'm a filthy human, as you say," the young woman asked hoarsely, "then what the hell are **you?"**_

_The crimson-eyed man smirked, about to reply. She could see his thin lips part, see his blood-red tongue curl to form the beginning of a word._

_But then a voice spoke. "He's a demon called Renge."_

_Startled, the heads of both adults whipped around to identify the unexpected speaker. There, on the most direct path to the cottage, stood a dark-haired girl tightly gripping a metal pole in her hand. To her side stood a shorter boy clad in a green t-shirt, tan bermuda shorts, and an orange beanie tugged over his scruffy brown hair._

_"Kuina!! Chabo!!" Nojiko paled."What—what are you doing here?!"_

_"Oi, you jerk!!" yelled Chabo, running forward to accost the demon. "Let go of Aunt Nojiko!!!"_

_"Chabo!! Don't!!"_

_Renge's crimson eyes flashed. He made a swift movement where he stood, and before anyone realized it, the boy skidded to the ground meters away, clutching his stomach and groaning with pain._

_"CHABO!!!" the lavender-haired woman screamed._

_"Foolish child," sneered the man, licking the edge of his bloodied silver blade. "You should've known better than to attack a demon."_

_He raised his gaze to meet Kuina's eyes._

_"Now," he drawled, drawing the knife edge against Nojiko's throat, "I'm certain you wouldn't want your **dear caretaker **to lose her life for **your** sake, now would you?"_

_The girl trembled, her shoulders shaking amid the dark locks of her hair that had begun to grow out the past few months. What should she do? Last time, no one had gotten hurt for her sake—that she remembered, anyway. Rafael and Althea had assured her of the fact._

_But this time...this time, the people close to her had already gotten hurt. There was a gash in Nojiko's side that continued to bleed heavily. Chabo's abdomen had a shallow yet painful cut. And what of Genzo, whom they had been expecting to come over for dinner?_

_She had to make a choice. A decision that would protect those she had grown to love—even if it cost her life once more._

_"What..." She swallowed, praying that she was doing the best thing. "What do you want? To kill me again?"_

_Renge snorted. "Obviously. That's what I came for the last time." His eyes narrowed. "Of course, I don't expect that you will die quietly."_

_Kuina scoffed. "What do __**you **__think? I fought for my life on _Baratie_. What makes you think I won't again?"_

_Renge smiled, pleased. "Good. That means this job won't be too boring." He released his grip on Nojiko's throat, allowing the woman to weakly sink to the ground. "I assume you've been honing your skills in anticipation for this day?"_

_"No, actually," replied the girl as she held the pole out before her. "It's just that pirates are idiots for thinking they can try and take advantage of our so-called 'helplessness' as a small farming village."_

_Renge tossed his blade into the air as he walked forward. "And are you..." He deftly caught it behind his back. "...a helpless villager?"_

_Kuina's gaze sharpened as she leaned forward. "Of course not. What do you think I've been doing the past few months? Definitely not sitting around picking mikans out of boredom." Her gray eyes flashed. She sprinted toward the dark-haired man. "Instead, I've been fighting pirates of all kinds!! __**Including guys like you!!!"**_

_A clang of metal to metal rang out as Renge blocked her attack. "Ah, but I must inform you..." His eyes glowed a deep wine red. __**"... Demons are an entirely different matter."**_

**-------**

"No, really, I can't..." protested the raven-haired girl as the sheep-faced butler shepherded her toward one of the empty guest bedrooms, "I really can't stay here..."

"Nonsense," insisted Merry. "We'd be more than happy to have extra help here, not to mention another female presence for Miss Kaya to become acquainted with."

"But really, I couldn't dare to impose—"

"You're staying, courtesy of Miss Kaya's generosity, so there will be no ungratefulness of any kind," Merry said firmly. And without any further ado, he prodded the girl into a bedroom and shut the door.

"Great..." Kuina sighed. "What have I gotten myself into this time?"

Deciding to make the best of her situation, she took a look around the room before her. Soothing pictures of flowers and scenery indigenous to the island tastefully covered the walls that were painted warm beige. White linen curtains fluttered from the warm spring breeze that entered through two wide-open French windows across and to her left. A canopied bed to her right literally oozed the height of girly flair—pearl-pink silk canopy curtains, fuchsia bedspread and pillow shams, rose-patterned sheets and pillowcases, and a magenta dust ruffle. Everything was lined in lace.

'Please don't make me puke,' Kuina thought with disgust, shuddering at the abundance of pink.

"Hello...Kuina, was it?" asked a girl's voice softly as the door slowly opened.

Kuina turned swiftly, startled by the girl's sudden—and unnoticeable—presence. "Y-yeah?"

"Oh... Hello." The flaxen-haired girl smiled, as delicate and pretty as an angel.

Well, a hypothetical angel, anyway. From Kuina's experience, angels were NOT blonde and blue-eyed. Nor were they as pale as this girl, who looked thin enough for Kuina to be able to snap in two if she tried. Not that she would ever do that.

"My name is Kaya," continued the blonde girl, still smiling. "Please make yourself at home."

"But really," Kuina protested again, "I can't live here. Besides, my stay on this island is only temporary. In a week or two, once I've saved up enough to be able to go traveling again, I'll have to leave. Sorry, but I'm better off staying at an inn—"

"No," Kaya said firmly, her quiet voice unwavering. "You'll just be attacked by pirates again."

"I managed just fine by myself," Kuina retorted, crossing her arms. "That butler of yours himself witnessed me kicking the asses of those idiot pirates in front of the tavern. I don't have a problem with fighting more of them next time."

"True," conceded the pale-faced girl, "but what if the next time they prove too strong for you? My conscience wouldn't rest well knowing that something happened to you, and I did nothing to prevent it."

A disgruntled expression made its way onto Kuina's face. "All right," she finally agreed with a sigh, scratching her head with annoyance, "I'll stay here for the sake of your conscience, then. Wouldn't want to do anything to harm that."

She jabbed a finger at the French window behind her. "Besides, if I don't do as you say, those guys there'll probably hunt me down and annoy me to death."

The three boys Kuina had encountered earlier gasped in surprise from the tree limb they were spying from. "Run for it, or she'll kill us!!!" they exclaimed, dropping from the tree branch and scurrying away.

A giggle elicited itself from Kaya. "Oh, those boys," she laughed. "Still carrying on their leader's legacy, I see."

"They your private security detail or something?"

The blonde merely smiled secretively. "Something like that."

**-------**

_"Okay, we're not allowed to tell ya everything," said the green-eyed angel, "but we can at least give ya the gist of it." She cleared her throat in preparation, and then began._

_"Right now, there's a bit of conflict between Heaven and Hell."_

_**"'A bit of conflict'?! 'A BIT OF CONFLICT'?!!" **shrieked Alistair, interrupting Althea's explanation. **"Are you kidding me?!! This is a state of utter war between the forces of Good and Evil!!! Between Light and Darkness!!! Between GOD AND SATAN!!! THE VERY OUTCOME OF THIS WAR COULD DETERMINE THE FATE OF THE UNIVERSE!!!"**_

_His ravings were stopped when Rafael conked him over the head. "Enough. Let Althie get back to what she was saying."_

_"Thank you, Raff."_

_"Any time."_

_Kuina rolled her eyes at the exchange._

_"Anyway, as I was saying, we're currently at war with the Dark Side."_

_"Please don't tell me you're going to use a Star Wars analogy."_

_"Ah...er...yes, maybe? Funny thing is, well... We'll get to that. Anyway, lately the Enemy has been trying to employ a new strategy: Demon Possession and Soul Conversion. Alistair, take it from there, but don't get carried away."_

_The newly revived angel cleared his throat and took on a professional air as he proceeded to give a didactic lecture. "Demon Possession is a method of attack the Enemy implements by utilizing the frailty of human will and morality. The concept is simple: A Demon enters a human body and, by controlling their mind and will, forces them to commit sins of all kinds. Depending on the strength of the Demon's will, the human's will, the human's strength, and the Demon's level of demonic Power, the possessed human's crimes can range from petty theft to the most heinous acts imaginable." Here the brunet shuddered. "The more powerful the Demon's will, the stronger is its control. However, the stronger the **human's** will, the more difficult it is for the Demon to control their body. So when you're alive, the stronger your **will**—not your physical strength—the greater are your chances of resisting Demon Possession._

_"Next is Soul Conversion, which occurs when one of three things happens. One, a Demon steals your Soul and offers it as a sacrifice to the Devil. Your Soul is immediately converted into a vessel of Darkness, and the result is similar to that of Demon Possession. Second, your Soul comes into contact with a Contaminant. What that exactly is, I cannot fathom, but seeing how it has happened before, I don't doubt the possibility. Third is the worst of the three: You sell your Soul to the Devil. This one is the most despicable because while you usually have no choice in the matter with the other two, this one you make the choice yourself. Regardless of whether you make the exchange out of greed or desperation, once you sell your Soul—it belongs to the Devil for all eternity. And there is no turning back."_

_"Right," agreed Althea, taking up the reins once more. "In your situation, the one we have to worry about most is Demon Possession. Most Demon Possession is utilized by low-level Demons, who, not having a physical form, need to control humans in order to be able to create havoc in the physical universe. Renge, however, being located in the upper levels of the Demon hierarchy, possesses a body of his own, and thus doesn't require having to possess a human. By the looks of it, Renge was sent to kill you in order to obtain your body, which he can easily have a Demon possess, since an empty vessel is easier to take over than a filled one. But that's why we always have an Angel posted in the vicinity of a death—so that they can protect the body from a Demon Possession."_

_"Then what's the point of killing me in the first place?" Kuina asked, still suspicious. "If it's pointless to take my body away because it's guarded by an angel, then what's the use in taking my life a second time?"_

_Apparently she'd hit the nail on the head, since the three angels immediately sweatdropped while exchanging guilty looks—again._

_"It's something to do with my soul, right?"_

_Another dart hit right on the mark. Their guilty looks increased._

_She glared. __**"Explain yourselves."**_

**-------**

"Oh, Kuina-san, drop by the grocer's on your way to the bookshop; I've just run out of some important baking ingredients…"

"Hai, Merry-san!"

As the dark-haired girl stepped outside, the sheep-faced butler looked perplexedly at the spice cabinet before him. Odd… He could have sworn that just the night before the cinnamon, cardamom, curry, and paprika bottles had been full…

**-------**

**Holy—!!! That's a lot for even me to write, and most of this was done back in August… For the best and most accurate updates, check my profile every month or so… Yeah…**

**"Aunt Nojiko": Ummm...I wasn't sure what he would have normally called her, so...yeah...**

**Usopp's Defense Squad!: Thought I'd skipped these guys, didn't you? (raspberry) Kuina's interaction with them is fun to write.**

**Demons and Angels****: Ooohh, the plot thickens... Yep, more explanations are to come...**


End file.
